


Command

by spirkylurkey



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, First Kiss, M/M, Malec, Protective Magnus Bane, Romance, Spells & Enchantments, lgbt author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-16 11:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirkylurkey/pseuds/spirkylurkey
Summary: "...For the right price.""Name it.""You.""Yes," Alec blurts.Alec accidentally agrees to Magnus' original terms for Izzy's trial, binding him to the warlock's bidding. He's at Magnus' beck-and-call, unable to refuse him if he wanted to. And refusing... refusing may just be the last thing Alec wants. Because Magnus desires nothing Alec won't willingly give, and even the list of things Alec won't willingly give are dwindling under the undivided attentions of Magnus Bane.





	1. Chapter 1

“Name it,” Alec says, and means it. Anything for his only sister. Anything for Izzy.

“You,” Magnus replies without hesitation.

“Yes,” Alec blurts- an outburst of true feeling or desperation, maybe? Who knows why he said it. He only knows that he did. He can feel the magic settling around him even now, locking down.  
Magnus looks surprised by what’s happening, but he’s obviously pleased at the outcome, if the smile slowly spreading across his face as the magic grows stronger is any indication.

And- hell, he knows how Magnus operates. He knows the rules. Agreement means the deal is sealed. There’s no backtracking, no negotiation, no breaking of the arrangement. Alec has just signed up for whatever “You” means in terms of giving. Unfortunately for those who deal with Magnus, that kind of agreement with nothing laid out in certain terms could mean anything. That’s why negotiations with the High Warlock are usually hours long, painfully, calculatedly drawn out, but- but Alec had agreed to this, and now he’s bound. He’s just signed his life away to Magnus Bane.

...

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Magnus- he’s helped them selflessly for too long to let his thoughts drift to never ending servitude in a collar- but Magnus is a powerful warlock, and Alec, though he has tried to ignore it, cannot deny the cat-and-mouse game of desire they’ve been playing- it buzzes at the edge of his consciousness the second Magnus walks in a room. Alec’s a Shadowhunter, so that means for him this math is easy: powerful downworlder+heavy emotions that Alec can’t quite parse out yet+unprecedented power over Alec= volatile situation.

He has faith in the goodness of Magnus, but it’s far overshadowed by his own nerves, his self-flagellation for making such a stupid, impulsive choice.

He’s still in his own head when Magnus clears his throat delicately to bring him back. 

Alec’s head snaps up.

“What does this mean for me?” He asks.

“Well,” begins Magnus, his tone indulgent, as if he’s savoring this situation as much as he can, “nothing too horrible, I assure you.” He lifts his head, looking into Alec’s eyes, and Alec feels like they’re saying too much as Magnus’ eyes go soft and sympathetic. 

“For starters, Alexander, try not to worry so.” He begins to tick off on his fingers, “I won’t remove you from your profession or home, I don’t intend to steal you away from the world, hold you captive, or use you as a personal assassin. You owe me no jewels, no blood, no physical contact of any kind.” He smirks up at Alec. “Does that touch all of the worries dashing around in that pretty head of yours?” He asks, and Alec can only give a grateful nod, knowing that Magnus will understand that they were only irrational fears and don’t reflect what he truly thinks of the Warlock.

“What, then?” Alec asks, trying to keep his tone pleasant, though he’s still worried. What does he have to offer the most powerful man in Brooklyn if not his services?

“Your time, Alexander. Your presence, whenever I ask for you. Simply: you come when I call.”

“What,” Alec sneers, “like some lapdog?”

“Like a valued companion,” Magnus says, reaching out to grasp Alec’s bicep gently. “and a good dinner guest. I’m sure you’ll always be right on time,” he grins mischievously. 

“I-“ Alec starts hotly, but can’t find fault in Magnus’ orders. Honestly, they’re more than fair, and nobler than most would issue faced with a young Shadowhunter with the kind of access and talent Alec has.

He knows he can’t do anything about it, and he knows that it’s far from the worst thing that could have happened. His family will be furious, but he can do this. It will be fine. He trusts Magnus. He’ll help Izzy, and that’s all that matters, anyway. The tension releases from his shoulders, and he gives a weak nod. Magnus smiles at him, claps his hands together with finality; the issue is put to bed, at least for now. 

“And now, I think it’s time you graced me with your presence at dinner, Alexander.” His tone is friendly, and Alec probably would have accepted without persuasion, but nevertheless, the magic feels faintly present in the air, a tension like the static-y prelude to a thunderstorm. He feels it settle upon him- an order to obey. It’s not like he thought it would be- it’s not oppressive or painful; it settles like a light sheet over his shoulders, warm and easy, because he knows he has a goal. It’s time to go to dinner with Magnus. These are his orders, and he can oblige. 

He smiles, lets Magnus guide him by the small of his back to a booth in a tiny Indian place, sits and eats with him, He enjoys the food, the company, the way Magnus’ tall tales tailored to impress make him laugh in a way he can’t at the Institute. It’s good, and the feeling that he gets as soon as the dinner is over and his order is completed is just as good- the warm cloak lifts from his shoulders, leaving shivery pleasure in its wake. Magnus kisses his hand as they part, a silver-pink mark. Alec declines his offer of a portal, preferring to walk home and process everything as it comes. The fingers of his opposite hand rub over the sticky, glittery spot all the way home. He knows when he reaches the Institute, he’ll have to explain to everyone how he’s tied to someone else’s beck-and-call for the foreseeable future and deal with the repercussions of that. But for now, it’s just him, the chilled Manhattan air, and the feeling of Magnus on his hand and under his skin.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s night by the time Alec slips back into the Institute. He raps on Izzy’s door, but she’s out. He’s at a loss. If not Izzy, who should be the first to know? 

Like a tidal wave, crashing thoughts of Lydia sweep over him. In the chaos of the day, he’d nearly forgotten about her. The guilt is like nothing he’s ever felt. He proposed to her, assured her he would be her husband and ally, and he’s betrayed her in the worst way. He’s promised to Magnus. Not in the way that he’s promised to her, but knowing Magnus, this agreement may be more time-consuming than a marriage. He can’t leave her on the hook like this, days away from marrying someone she thinks is a respectable match when in truth Alec is bound in servitude to a Downworlder. It could destroy her reputation.

He heads to her bedroom, hesitates for a moment, and knocks. She opens, looking pleased to see him, and that makes it much, much worse. “Alec, hi,” she smiles, “want to come in?” He nods, and before she can get a chance to start any small-talk, Alec is telling her everything, save for his undeniable pull to Magnus. She listens quietly, not interrupting. She’s a true shadowhunter. Resilient, levelheaded. She takes it without flinching. Afterwards, they sit in silence.

After a while of just sitting quietly in the bareness of her temporary quarters, she huffs quietly and says “I truly can’t tell you what to do, Alec. Clearly some changes will need to be made.”

“I’m sorry, Lydia, I’m so sorry. I wish you hadn’t been dragged into this. I know this engagement has to end. I just hope it doesn’t leave any stain on your reputation. Mea culpa,” he says, truly sorry.

And Lydia, kind Lydia, grabs his hands in hers, says, “Don’t worry about it, Alec. You love your sister. There’s no fault in that. And,” she chuckles ruefully, “at least it won’t be a conflict of interest when I prosecute Isabella.” 

Alec laughs bitterly along with her. When he takes his leave, it’s with a final apology that she waves off like he stepped on her toes instead of breaking off their engagement for a warlock. He thinks they could have been friends, if the circumstances were different. But they aren’t. This is a fact that Alec’s brain will not let him forget when he finally manages to get to bed that night. 

Everything is so messed up that he can’t even begin to sort it all out. Everything is up in the air, which is something Alec despises. With the Cup, his parents, Magnus. He lies in bed until nearly sunrise trying to sort everything, and falls asleep still at a loss. 

…

When he wakes in the morning, it’s to the sound of his mother throwing open his door and hissing, “What on Earth have you done, Alec?” She barely gives him a chance to sit up in bed and manage a “huh” before she storms up to his bed, menacing in stilettos.

“I ran into Lydia Branwell to ask after your wedding plans, and she told me you were no longer attached!” Gods, Alec thinks, if this is how worked up she gets about their engagement, she’s going to lose it when he tells her about Magnus. 

True to form, lose it she does. In a respectable, quiet-fury kind of way. Alec is summarily prohibited from nonessential missions, not allowed to sit at Izzy’s trial, and told to make himself scarce for the time being. It’s- a lot. He’s always known he’d never be good enough for his mother, but this- the first time he’s ever defied her, the first time he’s ever strayed from Lightwood interests, it’s like she wanted to raze him to the ground with her words alone. His own mother.

Alec sits in the shower for nearly an hour, chest heaving with sobs he’ll never admit to anyone. His life is in tatters, everything is changing around him, and he wants to resent Magnus. It would be simple to resent Magnus, convenient. He could wear his debt to Magnus the same way Hodge wears his red circle: with shame, repentance, and they would accept him- in due time. 

But he can’t, he just can’t. Magnus didn’t force him to do anything, Magnus was likely kidding when he made his offer, and Alec had sealed the deal. It’s not anyone’s fault but his own, and he has to live with that. 

He looks in the mirror, runs his hands over his face, and thinks pitifully that at least he likes Magnus. As if he can sense Alec is thinking about him, Alec’s phone lights up with his name.

“Hello?” he answers.  
“Ah, Alexander. Come to me, I’m at home,” Magnus says, calm.  
“Coming,” Alec says curtly, and hangs up like it’s a bother. But in truth, he wants out before his mom comes back to finish him off, and he could really use one of Magnus’ cocktails.

…

Alec knows he isn’t looking his best after getting barely a wink of sleep and throwing on whatever was closest, but the look on Magnus’ face as he enters must mean he looks like hell.

“Alexander, you look like you could use a drink,” he says, ushering him over to the breakfast bar and practically forcing him into a seat. 

A glass of wine and French toast appear in front of him, and it’s so absurd it nearly shakes Alec out of his mood. 

“Magnus,” he says, chuckling despite himself, “I’m not drinking wine in the morning.” 

“Come now, Darling, people have mimosas with their meals all the time! Drink!”

“Yeah, at brunch! It’s barely 9:30, Magnus,” Alec deadpans, drawing a smile out of the warlock.

“You look like you dearly need a drink at the moment,” Magnus replies, “rough morning?”

“I do, but I’m not going to. My mom- she knows about this now. Our arrangement. It didn’t go well. But I’m going to deal with it.”

“Our arrangement?” Magnus practically purrs, practically forcing Alec to flush.

“Shut up,” Alec says, “the point is, I’m not gonna get all sloppy drunk right now.”

He knows something’s coming the second Magnus’ eyes light up. 

“Alexander,” Magnus smiles devilishly, “I order you to drink as much as you’d truly like to.” Seconds later find Magnus’ own hand robbed of the strong cocktail he’d prepared for himself in commiseration, poured into Alec before he reaches immediately for a bottle of wine. 

Alec tips up the bottle, taking long gulps before he’s had half of it. He sets it back down gently on the table, re-corks it with a steady hand. He raises his brows at Magnus, unimpressed. He seems cool, collected. It doesn’t last. A few minutes in, Alec says: “Huh, I think I’m tipsy,” and it’s all a rapid decline from there. Soon enough, Alec is using Magnus as a chair.

“I’m a Shadowhunter, and you’re a Warlock,” he says calmly, businesslike, even as he squirms in Magnus’ lap until he feels comfortable. “Warlock,” he repeats, poking Magnus in the chest to help with the distinction, before twirling his own finger around to himself and repeating “Shadowhunter.” He continues to let his finger swoop around with boneless abandon, stating seriously: “That’s how you do, Magnus, like, swirl, there’s a portal, Alec, swirl, there’s a pancake breakfast, Alec,” he cocks his head, continues, “What was I saying, Magnus? Before?”

“I believe you were informing me that I’m a Warlock, my Dove,” he says, voice all disguised mirth. “Right!” Alec says, “So you’re a Warlock, right, and I’m my thing, and it’s like- forbidden. Not forbidden-forbidden, but like forbidden. You know?” Magnus nods his head, mirth gone.

“But anyways, that’s bad, but this whole thing. This is good. I like this. You’re very, very pretty, you know,” he says, and the smile makes a quick return to Magnus’ face. 

“Thank you, Alexander, yes, I know. You’re very handsome yourself,” the Warlock replies, unable to help himself from carding fingers through Alec’s hair. Drunk Alec is remarkably sweet. He leans into the touch, sighing gently. Softly, he asks, “Has anyone ever called you Gus before?” And the moment is gone. 

“No one interested in their continued place on this world,” Magnus says disgustedly.

Alec hums noncommittally to that, tucking his head into the crook of Magnus’ neck and planting a soft kiss there, gentle enough to make Magnus’ breath hitch. 

“Alec,” he says, reservation and desire rolled into one tone as he bares his neck for more even as he moves to push the other away. 

“What, Magnus? Don’t you want to?” Alec says, breath hot against his neck.

“You know that I desire you always, but this isn’t on, dear,” he strains out as Alec’s lips touch back down, mouth slightly open, tongue and teeth whispering against the delicate skin of his neck.

Alec is persistent, limbs loose and heavy on top of the other man. It takes considerable willpower to gently shift him off and command him to bed. 

The order makes Alec’s eyes dark. It sends shivers down Magnus’ spine even though he knows what he’s about to do.

When Alec is finally sleeping in his underwear in Magnus’ bed, heaven’s sakes after a long fight of Alec pawing at his body until he felt sleepy enough to give in, the warlock leans against the other side of his bedroom door, willing himself to calm. 

He can feel his own magic thrashing at him, whispering the spells for instant lubrication, undressing, petal summoning at him, testing the outer limits of his self-control. Gods, the feel of Alec’s large, strong hands sliding down his thigh, it’s too much. Perhaps he should have thought before he said “You” with so little reservation. It was honest then and is honest now, but it may not have been a good decision. He’s almost sure Alec Lightwood is going to be the death of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this brings you a little light in these harrowing times :( Don't forget to tweet #Saveshadowhunters and vote on Hulu's website! xoxo

When Alec wakes to the setting sun, he’s considerably less cuddly and more groan-y, pressing his face into the bed. As his headache fades enough to have cognizant thoughts, pretty much the only thing he’s thinking is a constant loop of “Fuck,” because he remembers every sordid detail of his breakfast drunkenness and he wishes the floor beneath Magnus’ heap of silken sheets would open up and swallow him. 

 

Magnus must have heard him groaning; he’s standing in the doorway, looking entirely too pleased with himself. As Alec sits up, Magnus walks to the bed, handing him a steaming cup of coffee before sitting down.

 

“Good morning,” he says, smirking.

 

“What time is it?” Alec says, hoping to avoid the talk he knows they need to have for as long as possible.

 

“Nearly six, I was just thinking about dinner,” Magnus replies. “I thought we could talk about this morning over some take-out,” he says- and Alec’s hope of repressing the crap out of it and never speaking of it again goes out the window.

 

He sighs, nods, and heads for the shower. By the time he’s done brushing the foul taste out of his mouth with a spare toothbrush, he can smell the Chinese food. He sighs and makes his way to the dining room table, where Magnus has laid out plates and lit a candle, because he’s very, very dramatic.

 

“So, you told your mother about the spell, that’s admirable,” he says, getting to the point as he pulls Alec’s plate towards him and dishes him a few spoonfuls of each of the cartons, of which there are several. 

 

“This is a lot of food,” Alec dodges.

 

Magnus falters, fingers fiddling with the chopsticks. 

 

“I’ll admit I was unsure what you’d like. This is only our second date, after all.”

 

“Does it count as dating if I’m magically bound to you?” Alec says, meaning to come off wry, but Magnus’ ever-present small smile vanishes, his face pulling into a grimace.

 

“Alec, though you are bound to me, I had still hoped-“ is as far as he gets before the shadowhunter clamps a nervous hand over his. Alec’s surprised by his own boldness, but takes the reigns quickly, smiles at the warlock, says a simple “I was kidding,” before lifting his hand.

 

Magnus snatches his hovering hand from the air, pulling it back to the table with his own chopstick-free one, continuing to scoop out food as if he hadn’t just made Alec blush. 

 

“Where were we?” Magnus continues, “Ah, yes, we were talking about how your mother took the news.”

 

“Even worse than she took my engagement ending. So, a lot,” Alec says, dry as bone.

That seems to get a reaction from Magnus. The warlock’s frame locks up, his eyebrows nearly touching his purple-streaked hairline. “You…broke things off with Lydia?” he asks, voice hesitant. 

 

“Well…yeah,” Alec responds, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. Gods, was he not supposed to have done that? He’d just assumed, but that’s so presumptuous, isn’t it? Internally, he’s cringing, but outwardly he only nods his head slowly, says, “I’d assumed this would be a time commitment.” And that almost sounds worse, like Magnus is his stickler boss making him work overtime, not someone he willingly spends time with. 

 

Luckily, Magnus seems to have processed the things Alec isn’t saying just as well as the things he is yet again, because he only gives his hand a squeeze. “Quite right, Alexander, it will be. I intend to monopolize you as much as I possibly can,” he says, flirtatious as always, and then, “Tell me about what kinds of scents you like. We simply must find you a decent cologne,” and the weight of the order settles around Alec’s shoulders, as warm as before. He’d assumed when it wasn’t so new and he wasn’t so intoxicated, that feeling- that strange, weighted-blanket feeling would fade, but it’s still there, solid and unoppressive. He settles into the order. 

 

It’s a strange sensation, to talk just to chit-chat with someone. Normally his whole life is filled with work talk, Institute talk, family talk. He’s okay with that, because he’s not the naturally talkative sort. But… it’s nice to have someone care, even though without an order he would probably not be prattling on about how much he likes the smell of cedar, witch hazel, sandalwood. 

 

“Sandalwood?” Magnus says, “I happen to enjoy it too. In fact, my shampoo is scented just so.”

 

Alec, before he can shut his stupid mouth, blurts, “I know.” Which is off-color at best and downright creepy at worst. He moves to stand, only to find that his hand is still trapped under Magnus’ surprisingly strong grip. Said man is looking up at him, that same pleased smirk on his face, the kind that always sends shockwaves down Alec’s spine. 

 

“Sit down, Dove, you’ve hardly touched your food,” he says. Alec’s embarrassed, still, though, gives a feeble tug at his hand.

 

“Alexander,” Magnus says, playful, and yet- resonating- “I must insist that you sit back down and finish this lovely dinner we’re having.” The first order with real force behind it- it’s molten hot, like liquid want in his veins. _Give in, you’ll like it _, his body is whispering, and Alec bites down hard on a whimper as he sinks back into the chair like some swooning maiden.__

__

__Alec picks up his chopsticks and watches them knock together in his trembling hands like bony knees with something like embarrassment, but at the moment he can’t bring any feeling to the surface other than his all-encompassing need to obey Magnus at any cost. All he has to do is what his warlock says, and everything will be just fine. He gets a few bites in before Magnus’ hand, which he had felt move when he sat back down, wraps around his wrist._ _

__

__“Alec, I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t come down too hard. I’m new to this too,” he says, painfully honest, and Alec, still punch-drunk, can only mumble, “no, no,” dismissively at him as he continues to eat._ _

__

__Magnus’ brow crinkles, but he says nothing, which is just fine, because Alec would like to finish his order, thank you very much. Finish he does, eating everything on his plate and still feeling woefully unprepared for the potency of the pleasure that comes upon having done it._ _

__

__It’s embarrassing to say the least, escalates to mortifying when Magnus insists he stay for a drink as he tries to leave, mostly because he feels- strange. He can’t figure out this feeling, and as the simple, thoughtless orders multiply, he feels rubbed-raw, nervous about a feeling he can’t identify._ _

__

__Finally, finally, Magnus calls him a portal to just outside the institute that he orders Alec to step through despite his protests at the wasted effort, and he’s away from all of it- save the final order. It isn’t until he’s in his bedroom, staring down his reflection- wide pupils, abused lips, churning stomach, all resulting from the command, from _Magnus _\- that he recognizes the feeling. “Oh,” he thinks, and then “oh, no.”_ _ __


	4. Chapter 4

He feels woefully unprepared as it dawns on him- that he likes it, the control Magnus has over him. It goes hand-in-hand with his already deepening romantic feelings for the warlock. One existed before the other, but they feel intertwined. Normally, being ordered around is something he tolerates at best. But when it comes from Magnus- suddenly it’s grounding, attractive. His life is constantly fraught with judgement calls, questions of morality, but with Magnus – it’s out of his hands. He can obey without constantly wondering what if. It’s easy to trust in him- after all, Magnus has saved their lives countless times. 

 

That doesn’t mean he’s ready for it. He’s barely come to terms with his own sexuality, and here he is, realizing he’s enjoying being pushed around by another man- and a downworlder at that. Shame is no new feeling to him, but it’s never less painful. This is just another thing on a long list of things he doesn’t want to want. He’s never wanted to want. He can’t help but want. 

 

He goes to train, wanting out of his own head, and with the vivid memory of eating an ungodly amount of food. As he violently assaults the punching bag, he hears the clicking of Izzy’s heels signal her approach. He turns to her, finding her standing close behind him, arms crossed and red lips formed into a grin. 

 

“Mom tells me my big brother’s newly unattached to Branwell and magically bound to Brooklyn’s High Warlock,” she coos, having entirely too much fun with Alec’s plight. “You have to tell me everything, big bro! What a score!”

 

Alec lifts his shirt, drying his sweaty face and giving himself a moment to get composed. “Look, Iz, it’s not like that. It was an accident. I was trying to get him to help with your trial, and it just sort of- happened. I didn’t want this.”

 

“Alec,” she says, smiling warmly, “as far as I’m concerned, this is the best thing that could have happened. You like him, he likes you, and Lydia wasn’t a good idea anyways, you know that.”

 

“But, Magnus-“

 

“But Magnus nothing. You know he’d never hurt you. He’s basically drooling over you all the time, Alec, he’s not gonna do anything bad. Just try to enjoy it. Honestly,” she huffs, “being under orders is probably the only way anybody could get you to have fun, anyways.”

 

“Not funny, Izzy,” he says, rolling his eyes, but she just grabs his forearm gently, says, “I know you, Alec. You’re freaking out. But you need to trust Magnus. And me, when I say that having a cute warlock all over you and getting a free pass out of your doomed engagement is not a bad thing. Try to enjoy it.” She says. Alec looks at Isabelle flatly and she returns his stare with knowing optimism. 

 

“Whatever,” he brushes off awkwardly. “That’s not what we should be talking about anyways. Your trial is first thing tomorrow. We need to be prepared for that, not talking about my love life,” he blurts, and before he can think about what he’s just said, Izzy latches onto it like the absolute vulture she is.

 

“So you admit you have a love life!” Izzy crows, before settling at Alec’s warning look, lips turning downward. “Alec, I’m not sure what’ll happen tomorrow. And I know things aren’t looking good for me. But right now, there’s nothing we can do but wait and hope for the best. We have our contingency plan if it doesn’t.” She rallies a little, “Try not to worry too much, I hear Magnus is great at pleading a case- amongst other things,” she winks before walking away.

 

After she’s gone, he can’t seem to get back in the mood to punch stuff, and instead makes his way back to his room. Because Izzy’s said the things he needed to hear, even if he didn’t want to hear them. 

 

He didn’t want to get married anyways, and whatever’s happening with Magnus is… it’s a decidedly good thing. He just needs to get over himself. It’s not like being bound to a warlock is going to announce to everyone that he’s gay. To the members of the institute who aren’t clued in like Izzy is, it’ll just seem like Alec played things a little too fast and loose and fell into Magnus’ trap. They’ll blame him a bit for his stupidity, but most of it will fall on Magnus as they condemn him for what they’ll perceive as typical warlock trickery. He doesn’t love it, but it’s not like the average shadowhunter loves warlocks anyways, and Alec taking responsibility would do nothing to change that.

 

Alec’s pretty much off the hook here. He can have what he wants- which is time with Magnus- without having to justify it to anyone. He’s not used to things being this easy. Frankly, it puts him on edge, but the sensible part of his brain knows there’s really not all that much to worry about on this front. He likes Magnus. He’s been put in a position to act upon that.

 

That in mind, he decides to call Magnus, who seems pleased to hear from him as ever, and they agree to go out. 

 

“Always lovely to see you, Alexander,” he says, meeting him at a tiny table in the back of Hunter’s Moon, their elbows bumping each other as they hold their drinks. 

 

The way Magnus is dressed is as extravagant as always, all maroon velvet and gray-glittered eyes. All of it combined with the half-buttoned shirt has Alec’s mouth going dry, searching for anything to say that’s not “wow.” He tries to focus, but he can tell Magnus has caught on from the slow smirk that overtakes his cheeks in no time. 

 

He takes pity on Alec in the end, not commenting on it at all as he distracts Alec with trial talk.

 

They talk about Izzy’s trial for a bit, Magnus’ strategy and how the evidence on each side stacks up, but eventually Magnus gives him a raised-brow look and says, “Alexander, I believe we’ve exhausted all available avenues. I’m not planning on letting you or Isabelle down. So can we talk about something less…daunting?”

 

Alec nods his assent, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he realizes he asked the guy he likes out for a drink only to talk about his _sister _for over an hour.__

__

__“Good then,” Magnus says, clapping his hands together, “let’s talk about our bond.”_ _

__

__“I thought you said less daunting,” Alec grumbles._ _

__

__Magnus laughs, catching Alec’s hand on top of the table. Alec starts for a moment before realizing that the mostly-empty downworlder bar isn’t likely to have any nosy shadowhunters in it, and settling his own fingertips on the cool metal of Magnus’ rings. Magnus smiles at him, obviously pleased._ _

__

__“If you’re hoping to distract me from this talk, Alexander, I must say- you’re doing an impressive job,” he chuckles, and Alec flushes. He really hadn’t, but-_ _

__

__“Unfortunately not quite impressive enough,” Magnus says, interrupting his train of thought._ _

__

__“Is that a challenge?” Alec asks, smiling a little. It’s nice, this, flirting. He’s never done it before, but he thinks he can get the hang of it. He’s even more certain when he sees the surprised blink he’s shocked out of Magnus._ _

__

__“Certainly not!” Magnus replies, blustering. “Truly though, Alexander, we do have to talk. This is a delicate situation. I wouldn’t want this,” he gestures grandly between them with his free hand, “to be ruined. I do value our connection, and the destructive potential of being able to manipulate your actions isn’t lost on me.”_ _

__

__“You wouldn’t.” Alec says, “Manipulate my actions, I mean. I trust you not to do anything too crazy. I promise I’m not worried.”_ _

__

__Magnus furrows his brows. “This is confusing to me, Alexander. Not unwelcome, but- well, I’m perplexed. Why the compliance? You’re a shadowhunter, a leader, surely this is-“_ _

__

__Alec has never been so glad to hear someone scream bloody murder before in his life. He really was not liking where that conversation was headed, and the loud crashing noises from outside paired with the screeching are a welcome distraction. He and Magnus share a terse nod before running to the alley the sounds are coming from, Alec withdrawing a dagger from inside his boot._ _

__

__The situation is nothing too crazy, a spat between three wolves and two vamps, some sort of territory dispute gone wrong, if Alec can parse from the things they’re screaming as they toss each other around like rag dolls. Alec easily subdues two of the werewolves as Magnus yanks the remaining wolf and vamps apart with tendrils of blue magic. They stay put, but one of the wolves Alec thought he’d knocked out hurls himself up from the ground, catching Magnus by surprise and managing to get a good clawing in before Alec throws a dagger into his shoulder- trying very hard to resist the urge to send it straight through his heart, and after quickly flicking his eyes around the alley to ensure they’re all actually down this time, runs to Magnus._ _

__

__“Magnus, God, are you okay?” he asks, popping the buttons on Magnus’ fancy dress shirt and yanking it down to examine the one good slash the wolf had gotten across his shoulder._ _

__

__“Fine, other than this being the worst way I can imagine you undressing me for the first time,” Magnus says drolly. He gently pries Alec’s hands from where they’re semi-frantically running over the edges of his wound, then, once they’ve settled to holding Magnus’, closes his eyes and uses his magic to knit the flesh back together. It only takes a few seconds, it wasn’t even a particularly deep wound, and yet- Alec still feels frantic._ _

__

__He detangles their hands so he can reach up to cup Magnus’ jaw in his palm, feeling strung out, and tries to explain, “You- I-“ but can’t, and kisses him firmly instead. It’s bit too rough and Alec doesn’t get the angle right, their chins bumping, but Magnus tilts his head a little to the side and- oh. Suddenly it’s warm, and he can feel Magnus’ body heat. It’s helping to soothe his worry, but after a small eternity of their lips sliding he’s feeling a different kind of frantic, feeling Magnus catch his bottom lip with his teeth._ _

__

__He pants into Magnus’ mouth, lifts his hands to slide around his waist, and opens his mouth. Magnus pulls back, and when Alec makes to follow him, gently says, “Alexander, stop,” so Alec stops, feeling momentarily embarrassed before the pleasure of the completed order rushes through him. He can feel his hands tighten about Magnus’ waist for just a moment._ _

__

__“I have to ask, because I need to know before this goes any further,” Magnus says, tone simultaneously sultry and serious, drawing one long, enticing finger down Alec’s jaw and the tendons of his neck all the way down to his clavicle, tracing it with the tip of his finger, “why you don’t resist me. My orders are absolute, but they can be fought. Why don’t you fight, Alexander? Why don’t you resist me?” he asks, the voice of a man who knows the answer. His fingers continue to trace the bones there, a slow back-and-forth, lighting his skin ablaze. Magnus lets his fingers grow cold and the icy, sensual touch on Alec’s blazing skin is almost too much._ _

__

__“I, Magnus, I like them,” he gasps, helplessly._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I just got into the show, and when I saw that scene, when Magnus said "you" my heart just about stopped! Thus, this lil thing was born. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and if there's anything you'd like to see! I'm really looking forward to putting more of this up!!!!!


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